One might wonder how can something as harmless as tea can trigger anyone, for it only gives peace of mind if anything. Time has come to think about "the other side" of tea and I might say it is profound. So to the non-existing readers of this blog, I am trying the "Woolf" way to squeeze in some truth to fiction.
It ticks 7 am, 4 pm and 11 pm at multiple houses and all you can hear are the desperate, arrogant, and sometimes tormented cries for tea in low-frequency voices.
"TEAAAAAA"
"Where is the TEA"
"TEAAA"
"It's already past the usual time. Where is the damn TEA?"
Yes, I sympathize with these wails of despair for it is truly a herculean task to boil milk and requires unparalleled skill to drop a spoon full of tea dust to it. Only an iron-born woman with golden hands can do it and a delay in the process would result in a mercilessly perished pile of men.
So, the savior has to rise particularly by the previously mentioned times no matter if she is exhausted or in a death bed,
OH, THE TEA HAS TO BE SERVED.
